Freeing the voices in my head

A while ago, I did a series of story-type blogs in a writing group. They were wacky, fun to write, and very well-received. So many of the good people in that group encouraged me to expand the stories and look into doing more, or possibly try for publication. Knowing I’m a procrastinator and would never stay focused enough to work on two manuscripts, I put them aside to concentrate on my novel manuscript. Shortly after that, our computer’s security had issues with MySpace and blocked me from entering. The computer then crashed, hard drive fried. I didn’t have printed copies of those stories and assumed they were gone, never to be accessed or found by me again.

Last night, I was checking downloads and found them. I had forgotten that our son had transferred them to a flash drive and then onto this computer (at least, I’m assuming that’s what happened. He did try to save everything he could from the old hard drive; I have no idea what he did or how he did it!). I still like those stories. I’m going to share them here and hope you like them, too! 😀

The “Wing” roared through the stormy night, its occupants keeping their eyes peeled for any trouble in the red light district.

“Unholy hot-cross nuns’ buns, O winged one! Lookit that!”

The blurted cry from the passenger seat startled him and his black-booted foot slipped from the accelerator. The manual transmission gave an ugly caw as the super-charged car nicknamed the “Wing” lurched to a stop.

With a snarl, the driver glared at his passenger. “I’m seriously reconsidering taking you on as my sidekick, Tia. Your penchant for inanity is giving me a migraine.”

The girl wriggled in her seat, trying to claw open her hero-belt. “Aw, come on, ya gotta call me Talon – it’s an awesome sidekick name!” She succeeded in fetching a flat tin from her belt, but had torn the Spandex of her bright red costume with the three-inch steel claws on her fingertips. As she used that hand to hold her leotard together, she handed him the tin and said, “Here, try this: Guppa’s Mega Migraine Mix! It totally rocks!”

He flinched and the tin fell open in his lap, spilling a pink granular powder all over his sleek black uniform. “I am not ingesting some headache powder mixed up by B.L.O.G.’s resident mad scientist. Take those ridiculous claws off before you hurt yourself, and must you always speak in exclamation points?”

Her smile was sunny and clueless. “I only penchanted this stuff today; I’m sure I haven’t bought any inanity! But who knows what Doc Guppa puts in that shi-um-stuff!”

He shook his head. “You mean you purchased this, not penchant, and you can’t buy inanity; I believe you were born with it.”

Her smile grew to a grin. “Oh, gosh – see, I’m workin’ on not swearin’ so much – dear winged one, you say the sweetest things!”

“Speaking of saying things – and I know I’m going to regret asking – but what brought about this latest outburst of yours?”

She bounced around in her seat, pointing to the bar a block behind them. “Oh, that! There’s a bunch of nuns hanging out on the stools, passing time at the Abattoir! And I’m pretty sure I saw their garters! Plus, I saw the blue-faced guy, Navish, and his woman, Lady O, hustling our Saber and Kid Jade inside! What does the ‘O’ stand for? Is it a dirty word? The file on her is real thin, so’s the one on Navish! They didn’t look very happy!”

He rubbed his temples. “I appreciate your eagle-eyed ability to keep a look-out for nefarious ne’er-do-wells, but just because a man paints his face blue doesn’t mean he is evil. Their files are thin because they are merely persons of interest who might be suitable for recruitment. Also, you must learn to be more specific. Who didn’t look very happy?”

His sidekick shoved open her door. “The girls, of course! We have to rescue them! That blue-faced monster is gonna force them to do something terrifically terrible!” She slammed the door, ruining her heroic vault to the sidewalk as her canary yellow cape yanked her back against the car.

He wearily exited the driver’s seat and walked around to rescue Tia-er-Talon from the clutches of the cape caught in the passenger door. “You are making assumptions. Navish is an old friend. I know you think he stole the super-speed formula from me because he now has the ability to type out blogs at a phenomenal rate, but we have no evidence. As for Lady O, you are letting your envy of her cloud your judgment.”

Talon stamped one neon-green clad bootie. “Nuh-uh! It’s Tuesday! You know what happens on Tuesdays at that slimy armpit-hole of a bar! It’ll be a slaughter! Like a bunch of zombies from Night of the Living Dead! Or innocent virgins thrown in to be dinner for the Creature from the Black Lagoon! We have to save them!”

He realized she was right. “Tuesday? Those sweet angels must be rescued from such distress! Onward!” He took two steps, caught Talon as she bounced off a parking meter, and muttered, “By the way, I’m revoking your television viewing privileges – no more Fright Night Fridays for you.”

They made it into the Abattoir without further mishaps. By that time, the nuns had sauntered inside, feeling up the crowd and smoking cigars. “We’re too late!” Talon gasped as they shoved past Island Bronze, Super-Jay and Gamester. The local agents just shook their heads – their sympathy knotted his stomach; yes, he was trying out yet another side-kick, but it was not his fault that they kept dying on him. Crime-fighting was a dangerous game and he had yet to convince his superior to stop saddling him with idiots. “Damn Marvin, I’m sure he hails from another planet.”

The Caftan Cowboy was on the stage, a strangely glowing necklace bouncing against his voluminous caftan. He stumbled off-stage as Navish and his Lady O urged Saber and Kid Jade into the spotlight. DJ M’k grinned wickedly as he motioned for them to each grab a microphone, and stroked the beads around his neck. M’k’s excellent sidekick Boomie began to play. The karaoke monitor attached to the boombox had a glowing strand of beads draped across the unit’s housing.

The words scrolled across the screen, hypnotizing the innocent girls, their lips forced to move to the beat, their voices rising in off-key harmony. Our hero thanked his hooded mask for having excellent muffling qualities and leaped forward. The rest of the crowd slumped in their seats or to the floor, succumbing to the soul-deadening strains of the horrific karaoke standard “Feelings.” A lone voice – he thought it might have been Ms. Tex – cried, “Freebird!” before fading into a snore.

As he swept the girls beneath the wings of his cape to release them from the siren sleep of the song, Talon plunged onto the stage, tripping over a pick-pocketing nun, and landed on Boomie with a crash.

Silence fell, except for a few snores, and the Singing Nuns Gang dashed away. DJ M’k blinked off the evil trance as our hero went around tearing glowing rosaries off of the patrons. Talon shook her finger at him. “Even I know better than to accept gifts from smokin’ hot nuns who hang out in bars! You really gotta find a different cover career until we nail this singing nun gang!”

A black-gloved hand patted her shoulder. “Our work here is done, Talon. The birds have flown the coop. Off we go to the next…um, M’k, what are the other bars that have karaoke on Tuesdays?”

And so it goes, the Winged Wonder, our beloved Falcon, and his Teen Talon fly through the night to save our wallets (and souls) from garter-slung nuns!

(With apologies to all comic book creators and fans! I couldn’t resist! Some names have been changed to protect not-so-innocent ME!) 😀

(With very few changes, this is the original blog that started the madness. I may flesh it out or I may not. As it is, I fear losing them to another computer accident and will probably continue posting them! *wicked cackling*…)